Always Alone
by RazielOmega
Summary: **FINISHED** **Updated Chapter 8** Sydney's world is starting to collapse. Will anyone be able to help her?
1. Alone

A/N: My first Alias fanfic, so tell me what you think! A little angsty, I know, but I'm in a weird mood...  
  
Disclaimer: Alias isn't mine, unfortunatly ;) blah blah blah  
  
  
  
  
  
Sydney felt her world crashing down. Her life, if you could call her sad existence that, was a mess, a horrible, twisted version of something she was supposed to enjoy. For over two years, ever since she had learned the truth about SD-6, she had managed to keep herself under control, to still find a reason for living this perverted life.  
  
It hurt, lying to everyone she knew. While she told herself that it would ruin their lives if they knew, she couldn't help but think that she was also destroying their lives by not telling them. She kept secrets from everyone. Even Vaughn, the only person she could trust, didn't know everything. But up until now, it had been bearable. But when Marshall, innocent, naïve Marshall, had said those words, those deadly, heartbreaking words...  
  
Hey, you know the best part? I've never been prouder to be one of the good guys.  
  
That had broken her heart. She thought of all the people living a lie, not knowing it. She could tell them, could reveal the lie, but in the process she might destroy their lives even more.  
  
She couldn't take this anymore. The two choices, both equally deadly and yet also salvation. They were tearing her apart.  
  
She stood in front of her house, staring up at the sky. Francie shouldn't be home for a few more hours, she thought to herself. She had the house to herself. A few tears slowly threaded their way down her face. Alone. Always alone. The tears started falling faster.  
  
Strong. You must be strong. There was that inner voice again, nagging at her, trying to help her yet in the end doing more harm than good. But she had grown accustomed to following its advice, and it usually helped. So she wiped away her tears, took a deep breath, and walked up the steps to her house.  
  
Opening the door, she was surprised to find the lights on. It occurred to her that she might be in danger, but she was too detached to care. She walked over to the counter, mimicking her usual actions, and put her bag down on the counter.  
  
Walking past the kitchen, she noticed that Francie was there. She only registered it with dull surprise.  
  
"Hey!" Francie greeted her. "I got off work early, so I came home."  
  
"Oh," her voice was cold and distant. "That's... nice." She walked past.  
  
"Syd?" That was Francie again. "You ok?" Was she ok? Well, considering the life she led, she was a whole lot better than normal. There were no guns, bombs, crazy machines- "Yeah, I'm fine." She started to walk toward her bedroom, but suddenly the door looked far away. She collapsed onto the living room couch.  
  
"Syd, are you sure you're ok?" There was Francie again, nagging her. She leaned back into the couch, drawing her knees up and resting her head on them. How nice it would be, she thought, to really be able to curl up and die.  
  
She felt someone sit down next to her, felt a gentle hand on her arm.  
  
"Sydney, what's wrong?" What's wrong? My life is wrong! Living is wrong! I just want to die!  
  
"N..nothing, Francie. I'm fine. Just tired." She looked up and gave her friend a weak smile.  
  
"Ok..." Francie didn't sound very convinced. Her hand was still on her arm. Just go away, please, just go away. Leave me alone. Let me die in peace.  
  
"Sydney you're shaking!" She was, Sydney realized. She didn't think she had enough energy left for that.  
  
"Sydney, what's wrong? Please, Syd, tell me!" She started. Francie actually sounded worried. Why would anyone care about me? They only use me. I do their work, I do it well, and in return they give me nothing. Promises they never intend to keep. Tears began to well up in her eyes again. A sob ripped itself out of her. She felt a hand on her back, gently rubbing her.  
  
"Sydney, please, tell me what's wrong!" Sydney sat up violently, tearing Francie's hand off her and nearly falling off the couch.  
  
"NOTHING!" she screamed, tears pouring out of her eyes, unstoppable. "There's NOTHING WRONG. Just leave me ALONE!" Spent, unsure where she got all the energy required to scream, she sank back into the couch, shaking violently.  
  
"I'm sorry, Francie, I'm sorry, so sorry, so sorry. Oh, God, I mess everything up! Everything I touch gets destroyed! If I even think about something its ruined, lost, destroyed forever..." she couldn't say anymore, she needed to breath.  
  
"Sydney..." Francie put her hand on her arm again.  
  
"I just want to die!" she cried bitterly. "Why won't anyone just let me die?!?" She broke down again, unable to go on. She was alone, all alone in this great storm raging inside her.  
  
"Because we love you, Syd," Francie said softly, rubbing her back gently.  
  
"Love me." Sydney spat harshly. "If you really loved me you would let me die. Get out of this life. No, nobody loves me. I'm on my own." She began to cry again, harsh, wracking sobs that shook her thin frame.  
  
"Shh, Syd, come here." Francie pulled her into her arms, rubbing her back gently. "It's ok, Syd, I'm here. I'll always be here. It's ok." She stroked her hair, feeling Sydney shake uncontrollably. Her sobs broke Francie's heart. "It's ok, Syd," she murmured over and over. "It's ok."  
  
Finally her shaking stopped, her sobs lessened. She began to breathe evenly, and Francie laid her down on the couch, asleep. Covering her with a blanket, she stood and stared at her with worry-filled eyes.  
  
She picked up her phone and dialed.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Hey, Will," she said quietly.  
  
"Francie! Hey. What's up?"  
  
"Did you see Syd today?"  
  
"No, I didn't. Why?"  
  
"She... something's wrong."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"She came home and she was really out of it. She just collapsed on the couch and started crying. She kept saying she... she wanted to die. And Will, I think she meant it."  
  
"Oh my God. I'll come right over."  
  
"No, don't. She fell asleep, you might wake her up. I just wanted to see if you knew what made her so upset."  
  
"No, I don't. Are you sure you don't want me to come over?"  
  
"Yeah, but thanks."  
  
"Sure. And Francie. take care of her, ok? She's been through a lot more than you could imagine."  
  
"Sure, Will. I'll tell you if anything happens."  
  
"Ok. Bye."  
  
"Bye."  
  
Francie hung up the phone and glanced at Sydney. She looked so peaceful when she slept, not worn out by life. And she was so pale. Francie sighed and sat down in a chair next to the couch. She would be there when Sydney woke up. She had to be.  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
TBC. 


	2. Lonely

A/N: Thanks to those who reviewed! You really make my day :) Well, here's the second part. Enjoy!  
  
  
  
Sydney woke the next morning to the sun shining brightly in her eyes. Why was she sleeping on the couch? She tried to think of a reason when it all came back to her. She closed her eyes again. How could she have been so weak? How could she have let herself break down like that? In her line of work, she couldn't make mistakes.  
  
Opening her eyes again, she saw Francie sitting in the chair next to the couch. She was staring at her.  
  
"Hey." Francie's voice was quiet.  
  
"Hey," she answered. "Did you sleep at all last night?"  
  
Francie smiled. "No." Sydney moaned, closed her eyes, and turned her back on Francie.  
  
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm sorry, Francie, I'm sorry I ruined your day and-"  
  
"No, Syd," Francie cut in. "There's nothing to be sorry for."  
  
"No?" Sydney asked bitterly. "I messed your day up. I've messed your whole life up. I'm supposed to be stronger than this. I have to be stronger!"  
  
"Sydney!" Francie sounded shocked. "Syd, no one has to be perfect. No one is perfect. No one."  
  
"I should be," Sydney whispered.  
  
"Sydney, that's insane. You're allowed to cry."  
  
"You don't understand! I HAVE TO be stronger than this! I HAVE TO!" Sydney felt tears threatening again, so she sat up, throwing the blanket off. "I should go to work now. I'll see you later." Her voice was cold. She felt awful. Francie was only trying to help, and she was treating her like she was the cause of the problem.  
  
"Francie, look, you can't understand what I'm going through. I-"  
  
"Syd, I'm just worried about you." Sydney gave her a fake smile.  
  
"Don't be. I'm fine. I was just tired last night, that's all." Francie nodded, unconvinced. And that's why you wanted to kill yourself?  
  
"Ok. I'll see you tonight."  
  
"Yeah." Sydney walked out to her car, cursing the sun. Why did it have to rise everyday? For some it brought hope. For her, it only brought the promise of another day in Hell.  
  
  
  
She walked into SD-6 in a daze. Here was the source of all her problems. She wanted to just walk up to Sloane and tear his head off, but she knew she couldn't. Not yet.  
  
"Sydney!" It was Dixon. "So how was Marshall's first mission?" Sydney gave him a false smile.  
  
"Well, not too many problems. He only managed to get himself shot with a tranq dart, but besides that..." Dixon laughed.  
  
"Wasn't it his first time on an airplane?"  
  
"Yeah, he hacked into the plane's onboard computer to make sure things were going ok. He also had a parachute compressed into his jacket." She smiled for the first time in days, a real smile. "Good old Marshall." She looked at his office, half expecting him to be there. But then she remembered that the CIA had pulled him out. She sighed.  
  
Dixon followed her gaze. "Yeah, he's not here yet. I'm a little worried. Isn't he usually here by now?"  
  
"Yeah, he is."  
  
"Did he get home ok?"  
  
"I dunno. We went home in separate cars..." She thought back on that parting, the place where everything had just snapped. Now Marshall was out. But she thought about how he would react. He might go crazy. SD-6 was his life. It was the life for all the other agents in it too. How could she tell them? How could she ever do it? She would destroy their lives.  
  
And yet, while she was there, she might let something slip. She might do something to endanger their lives, her father's life, her friends' lives. How easy it would be for her, one person, to ruin so many lives. She had been close before, several times, when Sloane ceased trusting her. So far, she had managed to get herself out. But what would happen when the time came that she couldn't?  
  
She was better off dead. She was doing no good by living, only harm. Her death would bring safety to countless people. Sydney smiled a cold little smile. Yes, everyone would be happier if she just died. Tonight. She would kill herself tonight.  
  
"Sydney?" Dixon's voice broke through her thoughts. "Syd, are you listening to anything I'm saying?"  
  
"Sorry Dixon, I was thinking about Marshall. I hope he's ok." Dixon sighed.  
  
"I'm sure he will be."  
  
TBC... R/R! 


	3. Isolated

A/N: Again, thanks for the reviews! Enter Vaughn. And I know a lot of you want S/V, and it sorta is, but in a diff way... ah, I'm just confusing you. Anyway, here's part three. Enjoy!  
  
  
  
Sydney left the office for the last time that day. Marshall still hadn't shown up. Driving home, she parked in front of her house and walked to the door. Who knew who would be in there today.  
  
Opening the door, she found Will sitting on the couch, watching TV.  
  
"Hey Syd," he greeted her. Sydney sighed.  
  
"Hey."  
  
"Francie abandoned my here while she went out to get some food."  
  
"Shouldn't she be working?"  
  
"Syd, it's saturday."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"You're the only crazy person in the world who works on saturday."  
  
"Will, don't start this." He sighed.  
  
"Sorry." There was an awkward silence.  
  
"Well... I'm gonna crash, I'm really exhausted," Sydney broke the silence. She started to walk toward her room.  
  
"Syd, wait." She turned around. "Do... do you want to talk about last night? I mean... if I could help... Oh, I sound like an idiot. But I thought, if it had to do with... with what you do..." Sydney sighed, walked over to the couch and sat down.  
  
"Will, listen. I don't know why you and Francie are so worried. I was just tired. That's all."  
  
"Syd, you're always so strong. To see you break down like that... it scared us."  
  
"Will, really. I'm fine."  
  
"You said you wanted to kill yourself," Will remarked quietly. "Francie said you sounded pretty serious. If that's true, then you're not ok. Syd, please. You can talk to me." Sydney looked at him. He looked so genuinely concerned, she almost told him everything. But no. She couldn't.  
  
"Will, I was crazy last night. Really, I'm fine."  
  
"Ok." He still looked worried. "Go to bed. You look awful."  
  
"Thanks." She smiled, an almost real smile. "And Will... thank you." She hugged him, burying her face in his shoulder, taking one last moment of comfort. He stroked her hair.  
  
"Of course, Syd."  
  
"Tell... tell Francie I love her." Will pulled back.  
  
"Syd, that sounds like a good-bye." Sydney gave him a false smile.  
  
"I'll be asleep when she comes home. I've been awful to her, and I don't want her to think I hate her."  
  
"Oh. Ok." Sydney walked to her room, closed the door, and locked it. She leaned back against the wall, wondering if she had the strength to do this. She stood up and walked over to her bed. From a crack in the frame she pulled out a knife. It was a small blade, simple, but very sharp. Sinking down on the floor next to her bed, she placed the tip over her heart.  
  
Closing her eyes, she tried to get herself to push. But she couldn't. She couldn't take her own life. I went over this! She thought furiously to herself. I looked over every aspect and decided it would be better if I died! But somehow she couldn't do it. She couldn't take her own life. She twisted the knife, felt its tip make a small hole in her shirt. She looked down. A drop of blood welled on her skin.  
  
She could still do this. She could still end her suffering. She had to do this! I've been through this! I decided this would be best. So just do it! But she couldn't. And yet she couldn't live, not like this. She hung by a thread, balanced between the two worlds, unsure which way to fall.  
  
When you're at your absolute lowest, at your most depressed, just remember that you can always... you know. You got my number.  
  
With a shaking hand, Sydney released the knife. It clattered to the floor. Then she reached for her phone, at first unable to grasp it her hands were shaking so much. Scrolling through her buddy list, Vaughn's name suddenly stood out. Tears pouring down her cheeks, she debated what to do, all the while staring at the number on the screen. Then, with a shaking finger, she pressed the "send" button.  
  
She heard the clear ringing, cutting through her foggy thoughts. At least she could halfway think.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
She knew she shouldn't be doing this. Someone might trace the call, connect her to the CIA, but right now she didn't care.  
  
"Vaughn?" she whispered, her voice cracking. She struggled not to cry, not show him how weak she really was.  
  
"Sydney?" His voice was shocked. "Syd, what's wrong?"  
  
"I... Could you come over? Please? I... I need you."  
  
"Of course. I'll be there as soon as I can."  
  
TBC... R/R! 


	4. Alarmed

A/N: I know it's a little short, but here's part four! I'll put up more soon...  
  
  
  
Vaughn hung up and walked out of his office. Sydney... God, what was wrong with her? He had rarely heard her cry, and she had never called him like that. She knew what might happen.  
  
"Hey Mike! Where you going?" Weiss was watching him walk away.  
  
"To Sydney's," he muttered distractedly, then cursed himself for being so stupid.  
  
"What?! You know you can't."  
  
"Oh yes, I can."  
  
"Mike..." But he was out the door.  
  
  
  
Will stared after Sydney. He knew something was wrong, but he didn't want to push her. She had enough problems without him. He sighed and turned back to the TV.  
  
A few minutes later the phone rang. He got up off the couch and picked it up.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Will?"  
  
"Yeah, uh, who is this?"  
  
"It's Vaughn. You're at Sydney's?"  
  
"Yeah. Why?"  
  
"Is she there?"  
  
"Yes, she is. Why do you care?"  
  
"Is she ok?"  
  
"Why the hell are you asking me this?"  
  
"Will, is she ok?"  
  
"I don't know, she locked herself in her room. Listen, if you're planning on coming over, this really isn't a good time."  
  
"I'm coming. I'll be there in a couple minutes. Make sure she doesn't leave and that she... doesn't do anything stupid."  
  
"What the-" BEEEEP.  
  
Will stared at the phone. What was going on? He walked to Sydney's door and knocked.  
  
"Syd?" he asked softly. When there was no answer, he decided she really must have gone to sleep. He sighed. She was a big girl. She could take care of herself. He didn't need to worry. But he found himself worrying all the same.  
  
  
  
TBC... please R/R! 


	5. Scared

A/N: Lotsa Vaughn, lotsa angst... I suppose you could call it S/V maybe. :) Here's part 5!  
  
  
  
Vaughn drove like a maniac, trying to get to Sydney's as fast as he could. He didn't know why he was so worried. It had only been a phone call. But something in her voice had scared him. She had sounded so. detached, like she didn't care about life anymore.  
  
Although he had never been in her house before, he had driven by so many times that he could probably get there in his sleep. Parking in front of her house, he jumped out of the car and ran up to the door.  
  
Will opened it.  
  
"Listen to me, Mr. Vaughn, I don't know what you think you're doing but Sydney is in no state to see anyone."  
  
"That's why I have to see her. Where is she?"  
  
"Vaughn, what's going on?"  
  
"You seem to know a hell of a lot more than me. What happened?"  
  
"What are you talking about?"  
  
"You know what I'm talking about! Stop playing games with me. Something's wrong with Sydney, and I need to know what it is."  
  
"No, you want to know why. There's a difference." Vaughn stared. Sydney had told him that was what her mother had said.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Oh, just one of Syd's favorite sayings."  
  
"Mr. Tippin, what happened?"  
  
Will sighed. "I don't know exactly. I wasn't there. Francie said that she came home, really out of it, and just collapsed on the couch and started crying. She said the Syd was screaming about wanting to die."  
  
"Oh, God."  
  
"We both tried to help but she keeps saying she's fine, she's just tired."  
  
"Please, Will, just let me see her."  
  
"Why are you here anyway?"  
  
"She called me."  
  
"What? When?"  
  
"Like, ten minutes ago. Will, I need to see her! Now!"  
  
Will stared at him. "She's in the room at the end of the hall. But she locked herself in."  
  
"Not a problem." Vaughn practically ran to her room. He had been about ready to just knock Will out. He reached her room and knocked softly.  
  
"Syd? Syd, it's me." No answer. He took out a paper clip and picked the lock quickly. He could feel Will's eyes watching him. Opening the door slowly, he gasped slightly, and closed the door behind him, relocking it.  
  
Sydney sat on the ground, leaning against the bed, knees pulled up to her chin. Her shirt was ripped, and there were small bloodstains on it. A knife lay on the ground beside her, and she was clutching her cell in her hand. She was dead white.  
  
"Syd? Oh my God, Syd, answer me! Sydney!" She turned her head slowly toward him. Her dark eyes stood out brilliantly against her skin. There were tears running down her cheeks, and her hair was falling into her eyes. Vaughn felt his heart break.  
  
"Vaughn?" she whispered, her voice rough. "Vaughn?" She reached a hand out toward him, dropping her phone.  
  
Vaughn walked toward her slowly, afraid of scaring her. The knife next to her was still far too close for comfort. He reached her and took her hand. It was so cold. She closed her eyes and leaned back, and a sob ripped its way out of her throat.  
  
"Sydney? God, Syd, what's wrong?" He slipped his other arm around her shoulders. She was so thin, almost skeletal. She didn't answer him. He rubbed her shoulder, pulling her close against him. She didn't seem to know he was there. Her eyes had a glazed look. She didn't seem to see him. Vaughn felt a cold feeling of despair. She was letting go. Letting go of life.  
  
"Sydney, please! What's wrong, Syd, what's wrong?" He let go of her hand and slowly reached out, grabbed the knife, and slid it away from her. He wasn't taking any chances. Suddenly she sat up, reaching out for him, eyes still seeing nothing.  
  
"Vaughn, help me, please! Help me!" She sounded so distressed, so hopeless. But she still didn't respond. Vaughn felt desperate. He hadn't been there long, but he could see she was in deep trouble. Something was seriously wrong. But what could he do? He didn't know what was wrong with her, but whatever it was was killing her.  
  
She pulled her knees up closer to her, pressing her face down into their bony faces. She let out a little moan, shaking. Vaughn put his hand on her back. But she still didn't respond.  
  
"Sydney, please, tell me what's wrong! How can I help you if I don't know?!" The despair in his own voice shook him. She leaned her head onto his shoulder, burying her face. He was afraid her sobs would tear her apart. He pulled her tight against him, stroking her hair, trying to do something, anything, to help her.  
  
"Vaughn, I can't get out! I can't." she couldn't say anymore. Vaughn rubbed her back, holding her tighter still. He felt tears running down his own cheeks. There was nothing he could do.  
  
"Sydney, what's wrong?" he whispered hoarsely. "What's wrong, Syd, God, what's wrong?" She began shaking violently, and he felt like he was the only thing holding her together. He stroked her hair, his own tears mixing with hers.  
  
  
  
TBC... please R/R! 


	6. A Light

A/N: Sorry I havn't updated in a while, I was busy. I know the Syd parts are kinda weird, and they get weirder... anyway here's part 6.  
  
Sydney was falling, falling into a deep, dark pit of despair. She couldn't get out. At the bottom, she could see a knife, but she wasn't there yet, she couldn't reach it. The top, so very far above, seemed unreachable.  
  
But then she felt hands catch her, soft hands, and she looked up into a caring face.  
  
"Sydney?" the face asked. It sounded worried.  
  
"Vaughn?" she whispered back. "Vaughn, help me! Get me out of here!" But he was fading, falling back, and she was alone again. She reached out, trying to find him, and caught his hand.  
  
"Don't leave me!" she sobbed. "Please, don't leave me alone. Help me, Vaughn, help me get out. I'm trapped! I can't get out! Vaughn, please, help me!" But he couldn't seem to hear her. And she saw his mouth move, but she couldn't hear him.  
  
  
  
Vaughn felt hopeless, useless. Sydney was dying, dying of despair, and he could do nothing. Then suddenly she reached out and grabbed his hand.  
  
"Don't leave me!" she cried. Her grip, normally so strong, was weak. And her hands were cold, so cold.  
  
"Syd, I'm here, I'm right here. I'm not going to leave you. I'd never leave you!" He stroked her hair with his free hand, trying to reassure her. But she didn't seem to notice him, she didn't seem to hear anything he said. Slowly she let go of his hand.  
  
On a sudden impulse, Vaughn let go of her and grabbed both her hands in his. He held them tight, whispering "I'm right here, Syd. I'm right here."  
  
  
  
Sydney felt herself slipping, falling farther and farther away from happiness. Then suddenly, out of the dark came two hands, two hands that held onto her tight, pulled her up and out of the darkness. She felt something hard under her, and realized she was on a ledge. She looked up, and saw the rim of the hole she was in, but she couldn't reach it. And down, far, far down, was the bottom of this awful hole. She was on a ledge, safe for the moment, and for the first time she felt a glimmer of hope. Her thoughts began to clear a little, and she began to look for a way out.  
  
  
  
At first Vaughn thought that he had done nothing, that there was no way to help her. But then she stopped shaking so hard, her sobs lessened. She raised her head and looked at him, actually seeing him.  
  
"Vaughn?" she whispered. Vaughn felt his heart burst with relief. Maybe he could help her.  
  
"Yes, Syd, it's me."  
  
"You came," she said in awe, like she hadn't expected help. "It was you who saved me!" Vaughn stared at her, confused.  
  
"Saved you from what, Syd?"  
  
"The darkness, the awful darkness, that deep, dark hole that was pulling me down." Her eyes were filled with fear. He squeezed her hands a little tighter. "I was falling, falling, and I couldn't stop! I couldn't get out!" Her breathing was harsh, her eyes cast down, fixed on the floor. Vaughn could tell she was terrified. He wanted to hold her again, to protect her from everything trying to hurt her, but he had to let her finish. "But then you came and pulled me out."  
  
"So are you free?" he asked softly, beginning to make sense of this horrible nightmare she was trapped in.  
  
"No," she whispered. "No, I'm not out. Only safe for the moment." She began to shake again, and leaned against him, trying to find comfort. He let go of one of her hands and put his arm around her.  
  
"You want to tell me what's wrong?" he asked gently, hoping she would. He looked down at her, so pale, and had a sudden urge to kill the person who had done this to her.  
  
She drew a shaky breath. "I..." she put her hand over her face, struggling to maintain control. Vaughn rubbed her shoulder, gently encouraging her.  
  
"It's... it's this life, Vaughn. It's killing me. I lie to everyone, about everything..." her voice failed her, and she took a few breaths, trying to calm herself, failing miserably.  
  
"Sydney, that's not true," Vaughn said softly. "You don't have to lie to me."  
  
"That's not true! There are some things I can't even tell you, things I have to keep secret, only to myself. It's driving me mad!" She was shaking again, Vaughn realized. He was surprised she didn't just break apart. "I need someone, someone who I can tell everything to, someone I don't have to lie to every other word. I need..." her voice trailed off.  
  
"Try me," Vaughn whispered. He felt her go still, so still he wondered if she was even breathing. Then she let go of his hand and covered her face, crying silently. Vaughn pulled her to him, holding her, rocking her back and forth. That couldn't be all. She was far too upset for that to be the only thing. Vaughn was terrified. Something was wrong, seriously wrong. She was trapped, trapped in some horrible nightmare. And she couldn't get out.  
  
"Syd, what's really wrong? You've told me all of this before. What is it?" Vaughn looked down at her vulnerable figure. He couldn't believe this was happening. Sydney Bristow was so strong. "Syd, I can't help you unless you tell me."  
  
He wasn't dealing with Special Agent Sydney Bristow, Vaughn realized. He was dealing with Sydney, a lost, defenseless girl who had no one to turn to. That was why all the crap about her job seemed wrong. There was something more personal to this that she wasn't telling him. But why not?  
  
"Syd, please, tell me. I'm trying to help you." Sydney sat up a little and tried to speak, but she couldn't stop crying. She tried again, but couldn't get anything out. Vaughn felt his blood run cold.  
  
"Shh, Syd, calm down. Everything's gonna be ok. Just calm down, calm down and talk to me." He rubbed her back gently, trying to calm her down. But she couldn't stop crying and shaking, couldn't make any sound come out.  
  
"Sydney!" Vaughn was getting scared. "Sydney! Talk to me! Sydney!" He brushed her hair out of her face and looked into her eyes. They were wild, wild with fear.  
  
"...alone..." she whispered.  
  
"Sydney, I won't leave you alone. I'll never leave you alone!" Vaughn was desperate, desperate to get any sort of answer. But there was none.  
  
  
  
TBC... please R/R 


	7. Longing

A/N: Close to the end now, I think this is the second to last part! You find out what's wrong with Syd, and I hope you guys like it :) Here it is!  
  
  
  
Sydney felt herself falling again. She had thrown herself off the ledge, down toward the bottom of the pit. Why? Why couldn't she let him help her? He cared, he genuinely cared about her. But she couldn't bring herself to trust him. She couldn't. She could trust no one. And so she had jumped.  
  
Now she was alone again. Always alone. She knew she had to make a choice. Either she would suffer eternally, falling forever toward the knife she would never reach, or she could let down her defenses, let him help her. All she had to do was trust him. Trust him. Would it be that hard? It shouldn't be. And yet, she had built up the wall around her so high she didn't know if it could come down. But she had to try. Taking a deep breath, she reached out her hands and grabbed his.  
  
  
  
Vaughn started as she reached out suddenly and grabbed his hands. Her grip was stronger this time, giving him hope.  
  
"Syd?" he whispered. She slowly raised her head and looked at him with terrified eyes. Actually looked at him. He felt relief course through him. She wasn't gone yet.  
  
But then she looked down again. Letting go of Vaughn's hands, she held her own up in front of her.  
  
"Look at my hands, Vaughn," she whispered. "Do you see them? Can you see it?"  
  
"See what?" He asked softly.  
  
"The blood," she spat. "The blood of a thousand people. The blood I spilt."  
  
"Sydney-"  
  
"How can you touch me?" she whispered harshly. "How can you touch a... a... a murderer." She dropped her hands to the floor with a SMACK.  
  
"Sydney, stop," Vaughn broke in, trying to make her see reason.  
  
"But it's true, isn't it?" she whispered bitterly. "My work isn't about bringing justice to Danny's killer. It isn't even about revenge anymore. It's about the people I injure, maim, kill."  
  
"Just wait-"  
  
"And the worst part is, I enjoy it! Every time I hurt someone, I can't help but feel triumph. I've gained victory over the enemy. I have one less opponent in the world. Every time I spill someone's blood, every time they fall lifeless to the floor, I am responsible, and I'm not sorry for what I've done! They deserve it!" She was shaking again, terrified at what she was saying yet unable to stop.  
  
"It's not them, the poor, innocent souls, who deserve it, though. If anyone does, it's their employers. But we count victories on how many assets we can kill. We send our slaves against theirs, think of them as numbers, don't think of them as people. If one dies, we just replace them with another. And I am responsible for those deaths! I'm a murderer, Vaughn, a heartless, cruel, unfeeling murderer!"  
  
"Sydney, stop this-"  
  
"No! I-"  
  
"Sydney!" Vaughn practically screamed. He had to stop this self-guilt before it killed her. He looked at her, and saw her eyes were filled with fear. He realized what she had done. She had bared her soul to him, told him everything. She was vulnerable now. He could either help her or hurt her horribly. And he saw, in her eyes, that she wasn't positive he would help her. She didn't completely trust him. Well, he would show her she could trust him. He gently grasped her hands, holding them tight.  
  
"Sydney, listen to me. Look at me. I am touching you. I don't call you a murderer. Neither does your father, or Will, or Dixon. I'm not repulsed by you, I'm not afraid to come near you. You could kill me in an instant, I know that, but do you see me backing away? No, Syd. Why? Because you're not a ruthless killer. You don't go around killing for fun. If you did, I wouldn't be here with you. But I am, because you're a compassionate, smart, strong woman, not a cold-blooded killer."  
  
She was shaking slightly, perhaps because he hadn't abused her trust. God, did she really trust no one? Was she that suspicious of everyone? No wonder she was in such bad shape. But he thought he was getting to her. She seemed to be listening. He could only hope he was reaching her.  
  
"Syd, think of the people you kill. Who are they? They are not innocent civilians. They are hired to kill. They know what they're doing and they know what might happen to them. They know there's a good chance they'll die. You know, every time you go on a mission, that you might not come back. We are brought into this life knowing what might happen. But think of what would happen if you didn't do what you do. Certain people in this world, power hungry people, would do anything they could to get what they wanted, and if you weren't there, they would succeed. And what would the price be? Civilian lives. Countless civilian lives. You may kill, Sydney, but the people you kill are trained to die. By killing, you are saving countless other lives."  
  
Sydney was silent for a long time. Vaughn didn't pressure her, let her think it over. He hoped she could get out. He hoped she would forgive herself, not blame herself so harshly, but Sydney was so hard on herself. She thought she needed to be perfect. She needed to see that she didn't have to be.  
  
  
  
TBC... please R/R 


	8. Innocence

A/N: This is the last part! Thanks for all of your reviews, they really make my day :) Sorry this took so long, I was trying to make it longer than it is but it really didn't work. I know a lot of you wanted more s/v action but I was getting rather sick of all the stories about them ultimately getting together. No offense to any other writers, the stories are wonderful, I just needed to write something different. Again, thanks for reading!  
  
  
  
Sydney was climbing out, slowly, finding small holes, chinks in the wall she hadn't noticed before. She was leaving, leaving this awful place. She could see the rim now. She could see Vaughn on the top, encouraging her, helping her out. She had opened herself to him, making a risky grab at trust, and he hadn't taken advantage of her. He had helped her. She could trust him.  
  
But she couldn't quite get out. Something was still holding her back. She needed his help, one last time.  
  
Sydney let out a breath, slowly.  
  
"And what about when - if - I do get out of this life? Maybe for an agent, this is acceptable, but for normal people? If any normal person murdered as many people as I have, they would be long dead. Could I live with myself that way, Vaughn? Could I live, knowing what I've done, always having to keep it from others?"  
  
Vaughn looked down at her, down into her deep brown eyes. They were so frightened, begging him to help her. But there was nothing he could do that would save her. It was her turn.  
  
"You're the only person who can decide that, Syd," he answered quietly, squeezing her hands. "You're the only one who will be able to free yourself of that guilt." She looked lost, desperate. But he couldn't help her now. She was the only one who could help herself now. "You're being too hard on yourself, Syd. I know it's hard to accept, but you can't look at it so emotionally. You have to let it go." He looked pleadingly into her eyes, begging her to accept this, to allow herself to get better.  
  
She nodded slowly. He saw a glimmer of life in her eyes. She had accepted. She had finally seen reason. He felt his heart soar. She was back. The Sydney he knew was coming back.  
  
She turned to him and buried her face in his shoulder, not desperatly this time, but simply needing comfort.  
  
"Just don't leave me alone," she whispered. "Please. Don't ever leave me alone."  
  
"Never," he answered, wrapping his arms around her. "I'll always be here." They stayed like that for only moments, but it felt like all eternity.  
  
Sydney felt her hands wrap over the rim of the hole. Her arms were weak, and she struggled, trying to make that one last pull to get out. And then she felt his hands take hers, pull her up, over the edge. She looked up, to thank him, but he was gone. Yet she could feel him, close by. He was there. He would always be there, if she needed him.  
  
She looked over the edge, cautiously. The darkness swallowed everything. Far, far below, she could see the knife, gleaming threateningly. She shuddered. How could she have let herself fall into that nightmare?  
  
She was so tired. Her little... adventure... had taken more out of her than she had thought. Lying down on the hard ground, she closed her eyes. Just before she was completely gone, she felt strong arms lift her up. She sensed motion, in her foggy mind, and then felt him lay her down in a bed, an ordinary bed, but one that felt softer than anything she'd felt before. And as she began to completely loose all her senses, she had the strangest sensation of the real world rushing up to meet this strange dream world. Then she blacked out.  
  
Vaughn lay Sydney down in her bed, pulling the blankets up over her. She looked so peaceful when she slept. As he watched her, he could almost forget that less than an hour ago she had tried to kill herself. He brushed her hair out of her face, feeling with relief that her once-cold skin was again warm. Smiling a little, he bent down and kissed her forehead. She was strong. She would make it.  
  
"Sweet dreams," he whispered. Then he walked out of the room and closed the door softly behind him.  
  
  
  
**FIN**  
  
A/N: Well, that's it! There is a slight chance I might right a sequel, but anything else I write will probably have nothing to do with this story. Thanks again for the reviews! 


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